The next day, on the carriage ride to the academy, Lorin noticed Xueyi still sulking.

“What’s wrong? Still upset?”

Xueyi ignored him completely, turning her head to stare out the window.

Honestly, Lorin couldn’t fathom what she was angry about. Yesterday, he’d merely thought she might return with Naba—it wasn’t ideal for her to linger here indefinitely. Yet she hadn’t left. In fact, she seemed to have nowhere else to go. Even after Naba’s harsh words, Lorin had stopped him from striking her. Nothing serious had happened.

Thanks to yesterday’s incident, nearly everyone at the academy now knew Xueyi lived at Lorin’s estate. Whether rumors had spiraled from that, he couldn’t yet tell. But the moment they stepped off the carriage, Lorin sensed the shift. Onlookers’ gazes felt different. Girls who usually greeted him now only gave slight nods from a distance.

Amidst this strange tension, a familiar voice called out ahead: “Miss Xueyi.”

Lilith approached them—the same Lilith Lorin had visited yesterday. Though she seemed recovered, her face remained pale.

“Lilith…” Xueyi’s expression flickered with surprise. “You’re alright?”

Lilith coughed lightly, smiling. “Rest helped. I’m feeling better.”

Relief washed over Xueyi for a moment before her face hardened again. Both Lorin and Lilith caught the shift.

Unfazed, Lilith chuckled, took Xueyi’s hand without waiting for consent, and pulled her forward. “Hurry, or we’ll be late.”

Xueyi froze, too stunned to resist as Lilith led her away.

Lorin watched Lilith shoot him a meaningful glance. He understood instantly.

Everyone believed Xueyi had cheated to defeat Lilith. By openly befriending her, Lilith was dismantling those rumors without a word.

“No wonder Xueyi always loses to her,” Lorin murmured. In this alone, Lilith outshone Xueyi effortlessly. Yet Xueyi’s stubbornly single-minded nature was unmatched by anyone else.

Rubbing his temples, Lorin wondered if that trait was truly a strength or a flaw.

Academy life resumed its rhythm. Lilith’s presence eased the subtle hostility toward Xueyi.

After classes, a weary Lorin told Xueyi in the carriage, “I need to go out for a while.”

Xueyi, still gazing out the window, barely moved her lips. “What for this time?”

Her whisper was too soft for him to hear.

Unlike yesterday, Lorin didn’t return to the estate first. He halted the carriage mid-street.

Xueyi watched, startled, as he stepped down. She’d expected him to go home before leaving again.

Leaning out the window, she saw him pause on the street, then vanish into a narrow alley.

“What’s he doing?” Xueyi frowned, turning to the driver. “Where did he go yesterday?”

“The Second Prince?” The driver guided the reins. “He visited the Eog family estate.”

“Lilith’s home?”

Since yesterday, Xueyi had been puzzled by Lorin’s late outings. Today, Lilith’s behavior added to her unease.

Hearing he’d gone to Lilith’s house, a sharp wave of displeasure surged through her.

“Stop the carriage. I’m getting off.”

“But the Second Prince said—”

“What did you say?!” Xueyi snapped, glaring at the driver. “I said *stop*. Are you deaf?”

“Y-yes, miss!” The driver scrambled to halt the carriage.

Xueyi jumped down without a backward glance and strode into the alley where Lorin had disappeared.

“Is this the place?” Lorin asked the Bookkeeper, wrinkling his nose at the alley’s faintly rotten smell.

“This is the Royal Capital’s largest shadow market. Besides goods banned from regular markets, they also hire investigators here.”

Suspecting Lilith’s recent contacts held answers, Lorin sought these underground informants. Wherever they existed, gold could buy any secret.

At the alley’s end, he slipped into darker passages. Flickering lantern light revealed the black market’s grim wares: animal organs, bones, jars of unidentifiable fluids—even what looked like human remains.

Lorin coughed, suppressing nausea. He pulled a half-mask from his coat, covering his upper face. Anonymity here began with a mask.

Guided by the Bookkeeper, he found a plain window tucked in a corner. Doubtful but determined, Lorin tapped the glass—three knocks, a pause, repeated twice.

On the third sequence, the window creaked open. A muffled voice rasped, “Payment.”

Lorin shuddered. He placed a coin purse on the sill. A withered hand emerged, dragging it inside. After a long silence: “What do you seek?”

Lorin lowered his voice. “Laei Mog. I need to know who she’s met recently.”

No emotion colored the reply. “Return tomorrow.”

The withered hand slammed the window shut.

“That’s it?” The simplicity made Lorin feel foolish. Had he been taken advantage of?

“It’s enough,” the Bookkeeper assured him.

Slightly reassured, Lorin turned away from the shadowed corner.